Author: Capricious Purple Clarity
Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 5xD
Rating: R
Warnings: Hmm... Yaoi, anyone? YAOI -boy on boy love. If you don't like it, there's this handy little button at the top of the page. It may say something like "BACK", or simply be an arrow pointing to the left. I suggest you exercise the right to use it now if you disapprove. AU (meaning Alternate Universe, just in case you didn't know...)
Disclaimer: Don't own, didn't ask, don't tell, we'll be fine. Disclaimer applies throughout the fic and will not be repeated -I try to prevent redundancy whenever possible.
Author's Notes: I wish I could say this came to me of my own creativity, but... Do you really want me to lie to you? . Actually it sort of comes from watching (gasp I watched T.V. for half an hour! Go fig!) Saturday Night Live with the guy that played Fox Mulder on the X-Files. Something about a male dancer named Mango and David whatshisname can't stop thinking about the guy he saved. I didn't watch the rest; I immediately began writing down the idea and as it came along, the story line developed, and... well, here it is! grins sheepishly
As of 07-01-05: Please Read! I actually posted this fic a long time ago under a different author's name -Kel of Mayhem. I still use that name occasionally, but only in blogs and such. Anyway, I've decided to pick up the story again, with several modifications and under my new SN. (Ever since I stumbled across another author with the same SN as my old one, I haven't really wanted to post anything under Kel of Mayhem -so I changed it.) Anyway, if you recognize the story from long ago, don't freak -I'm the same person.
The Professional and the Amateur Prologue
He stared down into the murky water with glazed violet eyes, wondering curiously where all the water truly came from. He knew, for a fact, that water came from the ocean that fed rivers and clouds to develop rain. He knew that the rain seeped into the ground, soon back into some underground spring that fed some lake that was again absorbed into the clouds and taken somewhere else. He also knew that the cycle simply repeated after that.
But where, exactly, did it come from? If he could have stayed in school, perhaps he could have known. He still had a small chance of learning... if only he could take the time to go back to school and earn something of a high school education--
Stop thinking about yourself, he scolded himself harshly, tearing his eyes away from the lapping water below. Lord knows I can't think about wasting what little money I've earned on my petty wishes and desires. Aunt Helen and Hilde need my help a lot more than I need an education.
But I wish... Oh, God, do I wish...
He thought back, sadness overcoming his usually chipper heart. His parents had died in a car crash, leaving him with his abandoned aunt and her daughter. When his aunt Helen grew sick, and Hilde was a part of a terrible accident, he needed to quit school and find a job to help support medical bills, housing bills, bills, bills...
He leaned his warm forehead against the cool metal of the bridge beam, holding back a small, dry sob of despair and disgust. If only he were better! He'd have more job opportunities if only he had some form of high school education. Maybe then Aunt Helen could get better, and Hilde could finally recover, and he wouldn't have to worry so much about where his life was heading and maybe he wouldn't have been as miserable as he was.
He growled low, punching the beam for emphasis of his anger and helplessness. The thick metal simply emitted an echoing sound and stood still, almost like it was daring him to try again. He didn't, though. It was stupid to even try.
This is when his world changed.
Before he could even breathe his next breath, something startled him from his deep musings. Eyes of a deep amethyst color searched the darkened streets for some sign of aggression, and he flittered nervously about his perch. The streets were very dangerous at the dead of the night, when no one would step out of the safety of their homes to help some stranger if he or she began screaming. He didn't doubt that there were many sickos out there waiting for some one like him to walk by the hole they slept in during the day.
There. The sound again. His breath quickened as he began to scramble from his make-shift seat over the water. The ground under his feet rocked as the foundation complained under the explosion that suddenly erupted near him, and he almost lost the little balance he had. With fear gripping his heart he began to hurry from the edge...
"Oi, wha's 'da lady doin' on 'da set?"
Surprised at the sudden voice, harried about being mistaken for a woman again, and frightened by the prospect of some gang member finding him, Duo Maxwell lost his balance and slipped disgracefully, falling over the rain slicked side of the bridge, his braid flipping in the wind, blinding his view of the silhouettes he suddenly saw before he closed his eyes and braced himself...
The red hot agony of a thousand piercing needles overwhelmed him before unconsciousness overcame him in an instant...
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"Hey! Some lady just fell off the bridge, man!"
"What? Cut! Get the E.M.T.s down there and see if she's alright, ASAP!"
"The E.M.T.s'll take too long getting here, man, you know that! They're all deeper in town where the explosions were mainly located!"
"Get a hold of them anyway, now!"
Heero Yuy stood aside from the rest, looking below with an expression of bafflement on his face. A woman was on the bridge? Why? Didn't the staff make sure the path was empty before they began shooting? HOW could they miss someone?
The Japanese boy looked around, appalled by the carelessness of those Americans. With a growl, he pulled himself onto the edge and took position...
"Yuy? Yuy! Don't you go play the hero, boy, that's only in movies!"
"You want her to drown!" he snapped back, sending the man speaking a dirty look of disapproval. The older man didn't reply, instead choosing to stare the stoic boy straight in the eye with a neutral expression on his haggard face. Before the older man could even think of another reply, Heero dived off the edge of the bridge, soon engulfed in pain and water as he broke the surface, ears popping at the sudden displacement of mass and weight.
He swam lower, his mind filled with concern. Never before had someone had an accident on the scene, at least not in any movies he'd played in. And why was he suddenly enamored with the flash of... were they violet?... eyes that he caught sight of before the beauty fell to the water below? Violet eyes filled with astonishment and annoyance, with dread swirling in the many emotions of those deep amethyst orbs.
His hands, agile and quick, began to wave in front of him in hopes of finding something to grab onto. A piece of cloth, an arm, a leg... anything, just as long as he found that violet eyed sight once more...
His hand connected with a long, rope-like object and he froze in something akin to troubled worry. The rope-like feeling had, at first, felt much like a snake. The Japanese boy, however, had taken a firm grip of the rope and pulled it closer, lugging something attached to it also. Grappling, he found his arms tightly wrung around a slight body. All worry seeped into the water as relief quickly replaced that emotion and he began to swim to the surface of the murky water...
He broke the watery top with a gasp of breathe, throwing his head back to swing the soppy, wet moss green hair from his cobalt blue eyes. Coughing and tightening his hold on the lithe woman, he began to paddle toward the shore not far from him...
Later, with the woman laid limp on the ground and Heero gasping for air beside her, he began to automatically check her pulse, her heart beat, listen for her breathe...
Imagine his surprise when his gentle hands encountered a flat chest when checking for a heart beat. Eyes widen, all he could stutter were two simple words...
"A-a boy?..."
TBC...
Review, please! Constructive criticism always desired and encouraged. Flames will be heartily chortled over and used to fuel the fire of creativity, kids.
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